Time
by JewelOde
Summary: What if time could tell you when you'd meet your soul mate? Loosely, but not really, based off a movie called TiME, Hermione Granger has let a promise define her life for the last ten years. The promise? That she will meet her soul mate when the timer hits 0. Rated M for future chapter SMUT and other stuff. Review and Fav (if you want to. i don't control your life.)


_DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter in any way. If I did though I'd be so much better at writing and could actually afford life. This story is based on the idea of a movie plot that I do not take credit for either. Everything else is mine. Boop. Oh! and this has not been Beta'd yet. Just looked over as much as I can on my own.  
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**Chapter 1: Anxiety**

I tap the fork against my plate, shaking my foot impatiently. My mother stands off to the side sipping her coffee silently and asking me every few minutes if she made my eggs right. I know what she really wants to asks though. _Am I ready to know?_ I can't bring myself to say a word back. I'm not sure if it's the nerves or the anxiousness but I don't dare look at it. Not even for a second. It's strange though, as it's all I've thought of since it happened. I don't know if getting the dumb thing installed was a brilliant or stupid idea and I haven't been able to decide within the 10 years since I got it. I begged and begged my parents for it and practically sold my soul to the local Deli during the summer for it. Finally, after it had been on the market for a good and safe year, I stood inside the mall on my 15th birthday. I sat there in that white little room while they attached a sleek, silver watch to my wrist and I can remember that my eyes stung from staring wide-eyed at the small bit of technology stamped over my veins. I had been so happy to see it sitting there, stapled to my skin and now…well now I can't stand the sight of it half the time.

I think it'd been the pressure of it all that spurred my decision in the end. The smirk on my friends faces as they waved their hands about. It might have also been the look in Ron's eyes, my infatuation for the last 5 years. I guess I never realized we didn't just get to choose someone. The timer doesn't count down to let _you_ choose your soul mate; it counts down to choose _for_ you. Slapping the fork down I stand up abruptly and my mother slops some coffee down her blouse in shock. "Right. I'm off." I say to the air behind me grabbing the keys on my way out. I honestly don't believe in this fate and soul mate gibberish anymore. It's a waste of time hoping for something that might not even happen. There were never any guarantees, no promises, and no confirmations. People wasted their lives and money only to end up with nothing but emptiness. Some, those that had looked for their last ray of light, had given up on everything. No, these contraptions were nothing but a big joke on those who believe, _believed,_ in love.

I throw open the front door and jingle the keys in my hand. It doesn't matter if I drive or walk or disapparate really. Either way something will or won't happen. Suppose I do drive though and I do meet him. Or her. They don't tell you that either, you know. In fact, let's just get it out of the way now. They tell you nothing about your supposed "soul mate." You aren't told if they're a man or woman, how old they are, if it'll be your greatest love or just a phenomenal friend that keeps you from sinking into the crap of the world. They don't tell you if that person is already in your life or if you passed by them in the street at some point. They give you absolutely zip to go on and it's maddening. I should know. I've spent the last ten years trying to figure all the answers out.

Maybe it's my neighbor or the girl from the market. It could be the young man I saw at the movies the other day. Like I said, I've given this thought. But back to the car. Suppose I do get behind the wheel and drive down the street. I've got 20 minutes until my mystery person shows up, what if I see them and hit them with my car? It'll be done then. I'll have met them and have struck them with my mother's Volvo. I decided to just shove them into my purse.

I wonder if it'll even be a human. I've heard of people who find their soul mate in animals. Obviously not in weird way, at least I hope not, but their cats or dogs turn out being the best thing that's ever happened to them. Maybe I'd be lucky (not) and end up with a bird. I'm not too keen on it being a rat or a snake though as I might have to kill it or something.

As I walk along the way I cast my eyes down to catch a glimpse at the time. I've things get closer to single digits I'll ask for more time again. I'm really not ready for this. My palms are slick with tense sweat and I know my deodorant is working overtime. Who thought this would be a good idea? Who thought letting teenagers do this would be a good idea? I can't believe I thought this would be good for me. I can't believe my parents actually said yes. No parent should say yes no matter how annoying their kids get. I won't blame them though because it isn't their fault. It's mine. Everything that I do, or don't, discover will be on me and that's a scary thought.

I know what you're thinking but you can stop right there. I don't know if I want to meet the person I'm _meant for_ simply because a cheap timer told me. I don't want to feel as if there's a string pulling me towards a future I can, and can't, see myself having. I should stop walking. Just stop my feet from carrying me any further and sit on the ground with my eyes covered. That won't stop anything but I can at least try. Something beeps from near my left hip. I look down and my brow furrows as the characters glow slightly brighter. 10 minutes. For fuck sake why did time always win? Why did it always get to decide in the end? It's not fair, I say. Not fair at all.

I wondered why it beeped….It's never done that before. Maybe it's like _""Hey, your time is almost up! Get ready for everything to change.""_ Because it does. Nothing will ever be the same when you meet whoever you're supposed to or if you don't. Like I said before, you're on your own from the moment the clocks of fate begin. I stop at an intersection and watch a mother and her kid scuttle across the cross walk. They're laughing and I smile. It might not ending up being so bad, I tell myself. Maybe I'll find someone, or something, that makes me happy. Happiness sounds so good right now. I sound lame, right? I'm 25 and I'm praying to an inanimate object to send me happiness.

4 minutes. Stop, please.

4 minutes and 15 seconds. I've never tried to break this thing. Maybe I should try.

3 minutes and 38 seconds. No no no no no.

3 minutes and 20 seconds. It's gotten slower…does that means something?

2 minutes. I slapped it on the ground and it did nothing but hurt _me_.

2 minutes 10 seconds. It won't be that bad. It'll be just fine.

1 minute. I'm a horrible liar and I should never become a lawyer. Or a mother.

Before the watch hits 50 seconds I disapparate feeling sick.

When I open my eyes again I'm staring at a blank wall sandwiched inside an alley. Taking deep breaths I steady my body against the cool bricks thankful for the few seconds I have alone. I only move when the watch beeps, louder than before. Peeking out from the behind the corner of the building I see that the coast is clear and I shuffle my way inside the ministry. It's filled with so many people today and I can't think straight. Cameras are heard behind the conference room door and I duck my head down so I can't be spotted by noisy journalists wanting to speak with one of the famous "Golden Trio." So many noises in one place cause my head to spin painfully like I've never felt before and I feel like some force is pushing me away from standing in one spot. I can't do anything but force my legs to move forward until I find what _it's_ looking for. Until I find what I have spent _years_ waiting on. I'm actually not thinking any of this but it's as if someone, and invisible being, is whispering delicious thoughts in my ears.

40 seconds. 30. 20. 13. I hold my breath and the time dwindles down. Before it hits 0, a long slow noise emanating from it almost as if it were dying, I look up. There are still people walking around tending to their problems. I see a few people with their own watches shuffling about and I frown at their wrinkled and tired faces. Was it their day too? Or maybe it had already happened and it was nothing like they thought. Maybe they never found out or maybe they did and it was horrible. I have to wipe my hands on my pants and when I swallow my throat constricts awkwardly.

I should have dressed better. Nicer, actually. I don't know if I'll impress anyone old black trousers and a worn blouse I've had since 6th year. You'll never hear me say this again but my mom might have been right. I can hear her now, her voice loud and screeching: "_"You'll catch more bees with honey than with vinegar.""_It's not that I'm a horrible person and I don't have anything to offer anyone I just...don't want someone like me.

The timer has stopped for a while now and I can feel the tugging behind my navel lessen. Maybe there really isn't anyone for me. Maybe I'm so useless that I can't even be loved by someone like me. I can feel tears prick at the corners of my eyes even though I wish they wouldn't. Sniffing to keep them back I hold on with quaking hands to my sanity. I don't want to fall apart in front of all these people; all these stupidly happy people with their smiles and laughter and purposes to being alive. Picking at the dumb nail polish on my fingers I turn around desperate to get out and shrivel up into oblivion in the comfort of my room. Even that isn't mine though.

I take a step forward hoping _something _will propel me backwards in refusal. That a hand will caresses my shoulder, like it should have always been there. I want so desperately to feel like I belong to some bit of this world. Of someone's world. I take another step and my shoulders droop slightly. Fuck it all.

Taking another step I walk, broken, towards the door of the Auror offices. Rubbing angry tears from my eyes I pull at the watch with aching fingers. Am I overreacting? No. I have spent tens years with this thing counting my life away. I've spent every year enchanting it to stay working in the Wizarding world. Do you know how tedious that is? You try doing all of that and building yourself up and tell me it's not incredibly detrimental to you, to your life, and to your dreams. As I walk faster, desperate to get some quiet again, something knocks into me **hard**. My left hand connects with what feels like another person and a few seconds later a breeze is blowing across my skin lazily. I look at the entirety of my arm with wide eyes like I've never realized I had one until now. There are two small dots indicating where the watch sat and I watch them for what feels like centuries. Both are lighter than the rest of me and the skin is slightly wrinkled from the constant wrenching I've done over the years. A long pale line circles the top of my wrist from ulna to radius.

I chuckle out of surprise. It's not a cute or pretty chuckle either but sounds like I'm choking on tears. The damn thing is gone. I look down and see it lying broken on the stone. The screen is blank and dark. It's the first time I've seen it like that in a long time. Suddenly I hear a throat cleared impatiently and I look up connecting my stunned stare to a harsh glower.

Gray eyes meet brown and I feel like crying again. Only this time it's because I feel happy _and_ sad.

This...is my person and I love him. Yet, I hate him too.

_"Granger."_


End file.
